Cardboard boxes stacked up high
Clothes and old books sum up my life
Wrapped up with tape tied down with twine
Open the door, I guess that it’s time
Once every couple, no longer than three
The lease that is up, or I need to be free
What was shared now is given, what’s useless is mine
Open the door, I guess that it’s time
Down the staircase into the wind
Tank of gas time to begin
Turn up the music hit the fast lane
Six hours from now I might stop once again
Phone numbers, maps I keep by my side
Brakes keep scraping this noisy old ride
Inside the trunk the boxes just slide
Open the door, I guess that it’s time
Apartment to rent, roommate to share
What is my story, I know that they’ll care
Two months advance and security behind
Open the door I guess that it’s time